Pitch Black
by Bio-Major Agent85
Summary: The road is a very lonely place.


Resident Evil:

Resident Evil:

Pitch Black

Road, an endless stretch of black, always moving, always going somewhere. It's body dark, flat, never changing shape, remaining one in itself. It's tar surface holding up against the force of the two-ton semi truck, not even giving into the incredible weight that bared down on it. John keppier watched the endless road that laid in front of him. Barren. No cars, no trucks, nothing on this once busy interstate. He looked around, scanning the dark horizon for a sign of life. He sighed and fell back, shifting in the stiff seat, his back aching from the mindless hours of driving. John leaned over, his large hand wrapping around the small Styrofoam cup of coffee. He threw back the dark, rich, blend of beans, tasting the mixture as a whole. The steaming liquid molded in his mouth, forming over his teeth and tongue, spilling into every gap it could found. The flavorsome coffee kicked him awake, shoving his eyelids up. His grip on the steering wheel tighten slightly, his senses now at full speed, John was ready for anything.

John rolled down the window, feeling the sharp whip of the wind as it slid through the now open hole. He reached over, grabbing the empty cup of coffee. John lifted it up, taking it close to the window.His fat arm reared back, tossing the white cup into the darkness of the night. John watched the crumpled cup as it hit the dark, windy road, the only movement he saw all night. The wind still flowed in, this time not as fresh, more sour smelling. John closed the window as fast as he could, making a barrier between him and the rotten stench.

" Road kill." The single word dropped under the sound of roaring truck engine, not having the chance to be heard by another human's ears. The foul smell still seeped in, gracefully flowing through the cracks in the truck to reach John's nostrils. He took his hand off the steering wheel and covered over his face. 

" Damn! Whatever it is, it's been out there for some time." To John the smell seemed to increase in potency, almost like it was coming from inside the truck cabin. John shook off the insane idea, knowing it was nothing more than a dead dog or wolf of some type that had laid in the sun too long.The smell stayed, surrounding those it had in its grasp.

The truck pushed on down the desolate interstate, still no sign of life. The smell still there, but not as strong this time.John looked ahead of him, noticing he was getting closer.Not more than three miles away from Raccoon city, A town that he had passed before, nothing really much there, just a stop and go city. He glanced at the glowing dashboard, noticing the gas gage reaching the tall letter E, meaning he would have to stop soon. He would have to stop off in Raccoon, if he was going to press on.

The city's lights were dim, showing the sleeplessness of the town. John slowly pulled into the city limits, watching the dark buildings as he passed by. John scanned the area, no people, no cars, no one.Something stirred to the left, burning from the corner of John's eye. Shadows danced across the night, forming, shaping into their human makeup.A couple stumbled out into view, walking in front of the truck. Their clothes ruffled and matted to their bodies. Dark stains filtered down the two's face and shirts, barley showing in the dark light. 

" Damn kids." John growled. The truck started its forward movement again, barreling down the lone, gloomy street again. John looked down at the fuel gage again, checking how much further he could go before stopping for gas. The needle pointed to the E again telling him he better stop. The glowing, neon Taxago sign become his beacon. He pulled the large truck into the pump station, the brakes hissed with displeasment as they clumped down on the wheel well. The door opened with a clank of metal. John stepped out, his muscles tired and stiff from the long drive. Once again the rotting smell hit him, acting if it was coming from city. John once again shook off the thought; just thinking it was a broken septic tank. He walked over, taking the large cap off the gas tank. The smell of gasoline mixed with the tainted smell, making it just a little better to breath. John looked around as he pumped the gas. The place was a dump. Over turned oil containers laid scattered on the ground. John didn't care as long as he filled up his truck and got back on the road. 

The pumped kicked, spitting up the thick gasoline. John grabbed it and put it back in it's opening. He carelessly walked over to the small square building. The door opened with a charm of bells, showing that someone just walked in. Inside, it was trashed, looking as if a tornado had just hit the inside of the store. Shelves laid empty, their context laying on the floor, some oozing out the blood of their wounds. 

"Hello?" John said fill of fright and unknowing. He looked over the corner, noting the mess that laid on there. No one stood behind the blue marble top, showing that something was wrong here. A loud, wet snap floated violently through the gas station. The new sound made John whip around, wanting to know where the it came from. John peered over one of the shelves, seeing some light movement behind it. 

" Sir, can you help me. I am in a hurry."The words float lightly on the air, also not coming out of John's dry mouth. He peered over more, moving around the shelf to see a clearer picture of the attendant. The snapping sounds continued, blending in with a wet squishing sound now. John's eyes bulged out of their sockets as he saw the gruesome scene that went on. The gas station attendant was laid over something, something that looked human. John couldn't believe it, it appeared to be eating whatever was in front of him. The gas station attendant stood up, showing the blood stains on its thin shirt. He turned around, facing John, its broad mouth open, its slender arms outstretched in front of it. From its throat came a groan, unearthly and abnormal in many ways. John stumbled back, trying to make some distance between him and the crazed man. The demented man grabbed John, sizing his arm up. Before John could do anything, the man's mouth was wrapped around his bicep, his teeth sinking into his flesh. John pushed the man way with everything he had. The frenzied man stumbled back, holding a chuck of wet, pale flesh in its jaws. John looked at his wound, seeing the over whelming amount of blood that continued to pour out of it. Anger came over him and then retribution. John wrapped his massive hands around the man's dirty, blood stained shirt and threw his limp body through the front window. John climbed back into his truck cabin, holding his wounded arm tight. 

" That guy's a manic. Why did he bite me?" John says confused even by his own words. The truck started off again, heading down the main road. Once again, John was alone on the street, nobody out to help him. He looked around nervously, worried that he wouldn't make it to the hospital or the fact that no one would be there.He grasped his arm tighter, trying his best to stop himself from bleeding to death. He tried his best to drive the immense truck, but to no prevail. His eyes blurred, blending the road into one giant blob of black. John didn't know what was happening to him. His head ran hot with fever; his body was sticky with sweat. Something was wrong, very wrong.

His mind flattered away, leaving him in a state of unknowing. The truck swung across the road, smashing through several tin garbage cans. John tired his best to hold on, hold on to sanity, but he couldn't. His eyes rolled back in his head, his foot still on the gas, pushing the semi down the road. Everything was lost; John was not John anymore, but a shadow of his former self. John was already dead, but still moving and craving something odd. He waved his head around aimlessly, looking for someway out of the truck cabin, but he couldn't think like he use to. The truck drove itself, aiming straight down the deserted street. A black and white cop car turned sharply in front of it, its tires sliding across the rough street. The creature once known, as John didn't pay any attention to the car that just flew by, the only thing that went through his mind was his hunger. The police cruiser slammed into the wall and shifted violently to the right.The car went out of control, spinning around, crashing hard into a sign pole. John watched on, the truck still moving, still bearing down on the cop car. The people inside ran, ran for their lives, ran into the world of the undead. John's semi hit the dead car, tipping over, spilling the once important deliver it contained out on the ground below. The fire exploded vividly, slowly forming into a ball of consuming flames. The area detonated into a new sound and light of the night. The flames of hell took the creature known as John away from this world, releasing him from his own nightmare. In one night, one man died twice.


End file.
